


Porcelain

by Anonymous



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Black Eagles Felix Hugo Fraldarius, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Dollification, Drugged Sex, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, FE3H Kinkmeme, Forced Crossdressing, Forced Feminization, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Oral Sex, Prisoner of War, Short One Shot, no beta we die like Glenn, rapist pov
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-26
Updated: 2021-01-26
Packaged: 2021-03-12 06:14:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29005893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: She smiles when he leans into the fingers that lightly skim down his cheek, eyelids fluttering, laughs lightly when he pouts at the loss of her touch. Two moons ago, before the herbal mixture that keeps him sweet and demure really kicked in, the same touch would have been met with the snap of teeth, vulgar words… and fear, despite his best efforts to pretend otherwise. But long gone are the days of keeping him tied to his chair and forcing laced tea down his stubborn throat.That is all behind them. Now Felix is her lovely porcelain doll._____Felix was a traitor. Rhea redeems him.Fill for FE3H Kinkmeme
Relationships: Rhea/Felix Hugo Fraldarius
Comments: 2
Kudos: 13
Collections: Anonymous





	Porcelain

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt:
> 
> Somebody turns Felix into their pretty little doll, pliable and sweet.
> 
> \+ References to doll-terms like glassy-eyed etc  
> \+ He definitely protested/fought back in the beginning but he's been broken down through drugging, violence, words, threats, etc, whichever metods the top prefers to use. Now he is very docile.  
> \+ He's been taught to do exactly as he's told, like a good little puppet. Act like normal around everyone else, but suck dick or eat pussy as they want him to, etc. They don't even need words.  
> \+ Trans Felix or Felix's body having been altered to be breedable through magic. Å
> 
> I have a preference for Claude, Jeritza, Rhea, or Hilda (C/H could even team up; R could potentially team up with Seteth and/or Flayn) but I'm open to other tops as well. I'd prefer the rarepair route, if so. No Byleth, Sylvain, Dimitri, or Ingrid at least, though.
> 
> Either POV is fine, though I am leaning slightly more to top POV.  
> _____  
> This is just a short little one-shot, but I hope you like it, OP.

She smiles when he leans into the fingers that lightly skim down his cheek, eyelids fluttering, laughs lightly when he pouts at the loss of her touch. Two moons ago, before the herbal mixture that keeps him sweet and demure really kicked in, the same touch would have been met with the snap of teeth, vulgar words… and fear, despite his best efforts to pretend otherwise. But long gone are the days of keeping him tied to his chair and forcing laced tea down his stubborn throat.

That is all behind them. Now Felix is her lovely porcelain doll.

He sits with his hands folded in his lap as Rhea fusses over him, gently cleaning his bare skin with a warm, soapy cloth. He sighs as she runs the cloth between his legs, over the bed of midnight curls. The keen he makes as her thumb catches over his clit makes fondness burn in her chest. Another improvement she’s made since the end of the war, since finding one of Edelgard’s once-loyal toy soldiers broken and abandoned on the battlefield, barely clinging to life. Once the war is over and they’ve the time and peace of mind to worry about such things, she plans to breed him, to finally see to the overdue return of her kind. That can wait, though. They have plenty of time for that.

She drags the rag down his slender legs. The dark, downy hair that had once been there had to go, of course. Once he’s clean, she drops the rag back into the bowl of water and rises off her knees. He stays still in his chair as she disappears into the closet for a moment.

He has so many lovely outfits now, all custom tailored just for him. Lace and silk and ribbon abound as she runs her hand over the selection. She could spare no expense for her darling doll, after all. A silver silk shift catches her attention, pooling in her fingers. It’s a newer piece in their collection. She pulls it off the rack and returns to Felix.

He stands without having to be told to, lifting his arms to let her slip the gown over his head. It spills like water down his body, the hem flitting around his knees. His every curve is perfectly hugged. The silver threads glitter in the light of the fire burning in the hearth. “Beautiful,” she muses, taking his hand and urging him to sit once more.

She grabs a hairbrush from the vanity, rounding the chair to stand behind him. His reflection stares calmly ahead, glassy eyes blinking languidly. With deft fingers, she pulls the ties from his hair, letting the sleek braid he keeps it in during the day – when he wanders around the monastery as if nothing happens once he disappears behind the closed doors of Rhea’s chamber – unwind into a mess of waves. She sings softly the song her mother used to sing for her as she runs the brush through his silky hair.

When it is once again smooth and shiny, resting just below his shoulder blades, she sets to work pulling it up into high twin tails, bound in lengths of thick silver ribbon, tied into perfect, bouncy bows. She winds her arms around his chest, chin resting lightly against the top of his head, admiring her work in the mirror.

Her perfect doll.

She spoils him so, she knows, even if such a filthy traitor doesn’t deserve such devotion from her. But with his ever-so-slightly flushed skin of creamy porcelain and his beautiful amber eyes and perfectly sculpted body, how can she deny him all the tender care she can lavish on him? Even if he sullied himself by defying the church, defying _her_ , Rhea is nothing if not a merciful saint. Through this penance she’s set for him, she will guide him to salvation.

She teases at the seam of his plush, pink lips with her thumb, and he parts them obediently. They wrap around as she slips the digit inside his warm, pliant mouth, his tongue already beginning to lave over it. His eyes flutter closed.

He whines with loss when she pulls it out, soothed some when she presses a soft kiss to the top of his head. Her hand slips beneath her own gown, slender fingers slipping inside her already wet pussy. She gives them a few pumps, just enough to get them slick.

Felix moans as these fingers push their way past his lips. He suckles at them like a starving man, his eyes rolling back in his head. His tongue catches every last drop of her sweet nectar, head bobbing along her fingers and taking them as deep in his throat as he can manage.

“Would you like more, Felix?” she asks softly, removing her fingers. He nods slowly. She takes him by the hand, leading him toward her bed. Her sweet doll sinks to his knees as she pulls her gown up over her hips and takes a seat on the edge.

He meets her eyes with a pleading look, waiting for permission. She strokes his chin softly, spreading her legs and drawing him closer. His nose nuzzles into her soft, green curls, breathing her heady scent deep into his lungs. Wasting no more time, his tongue darts out, lapping at her clit.

This was the hardest part to train, she muses to herself, resting a hand on the top of his head, careful not to muss up the hair she’d worked so hard on. He’d been pure when she’d first started working on him. The potential was there, but he was hesitant and uncertain of himself. He didn’t know how to please a woman, and there was no substitute for hard work and practice. She was patient with him, though, through the pathetic and unsatisfying attempts, guiding him toward improvement.

Now he’s perfect.

She sighs as he brings her to orgasm, tongue continuing to work her through it. She draws him up once she comes down, urges him to lie next to her in the spacious bed. He smiles up at her.

They’ve a long night ahead of them.


End file.
